Smoke and Mirrors
by bruised-tears
Summary: Goren meets a mysterious girl who gets right under his skin.
1. Near Life Experience

**A/N:** don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'Near Life Experience' by Lifehouse

**Smoke and Mirrors**

**Chapter One**

If I showed my hand shaking like a leaf  
>You might not understand, but I bet you'd believe<br>This bat is inside, crawling around  
>The cobwebs in my mind that I try to drown out<br>You said I look like a ghost, man I almost was  
>You said I need to let go, quit chasing that buzz<br>That picture in time, frozen like ice  
>That girls keep repeating, beating me down to size<br>Well maybe I'm blind, just throwing darts in the dark  
>I didn't get what I want, I got what I need<br>Man, it hurts like hell down here on my knees  
>Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?<br>The night is my friend, I blend in with the best  
>The vampires, the crooks, the felons and the rest<br>Now we can pretend that we really care less  
>And act like we love what we really detest<br>Well maybe I'm blind, just throwing darts in the dark  
>I didn't get what I want, I got what I need<br>Man it hurts like hell down here on my knees  
>Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?<br>Make this go away, I'm begging please  
>There's little life left here for me to bleed<br>Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?  
>I'm looking up but I'm feeling down<br>Since I'm cutting these corners, was cutting me down to size  
>Am I losing control or losing my mind?<br>I know for a fact I'm losing my last place to hide  
>Well maybe I'm blind, just throwing darts in the dark<br>I didn't get what I want, I got what I need  
>Man it hurts like hell down here on my knees<br>Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?  
>My pulse is racing, I can't catch my breath<br>This near-life experience scared me to death  
>Is this where I end, or is this where we begin?<br>Or is this where we begin?

Between cases was when Goren got restless. The brief rush he gained solving a complicated case had already faded to a dull hum at the base of his spine and now he was on edge again. Eames was working her way down a huge pile of reports at her desk. Goren should have been doing his own paperwork. Instead he got to his feet and pulled on his jacket. Eames looked up questioningly, brushing her hair behind her ear absently.

"Just going for a coffee."

He sidled out of the building before anyone could corner him, escaping into the chilly damp winter air. His favourite coffee shop was a couple of blocks over and he took the walk slowly, his hazel eyes taking everything in. Passing a brightly lit gym window, he paused. There was a self defence class in progress. Rows and rows of people executing the same sequence of moves to the thumping music he could just discern through the noise of the street behind him. He ran his gaze over them. The slightly overweight men, bright red in the face with dark patches of sweat on their t-shirts. The lithe young girls in clinging spandex admiring their reflections in the mirrored wall, ensuring they didn't sweat too much in front of the attractive blond instructor with a toothy white smile of encouragement he kept flashing around. The shyer girls hovered in the middle of the class, away from the window and the mirrors on either side of them, trying not to look at their reflections as they followed the movements. Goren's eye was caught by a very pretty girl in short grey shorts and a matching vest top. Sweat ringed her arms and trailed down her spine. Her long dark red hair was pulled back in a slightly curled ponytail. Her fierce green eyes were focused entirely on her reflection but, unlike the vain girls who admired their bronzed limbs and the curve of their buttocks as they kicked, she was watching her movements mirrored back at her. Her hawk eyes scrutinised as she punched, rotated and kicked. Her plump pink lips were pursed with concentration. She moved like a ballet dancer, effortlessly, sinuously, one move flowing smoothly into the next as though she really was dancing rather than knocking the hell out of an imaginary attacker.

Goren gave her his usual once over. Her vest and shorts were simple but her gym shoes looked expensive. Her arms and legs were both long and willowy, glowing pearly white under the harsh fluorescent floodlights but the smattering of freckles on her bare shoulders indicated she'd been in the sun recently. She had tiny studs in her ears and a silver necklace that disappeared under the fabric of her vest. As her row moved a few steps to the side, Goren glimpsed himself reflected in the mirrored wall. He looked exhausted… and bloody old. It had been a very difficult case.

He took a last look at the girl, it was the way she concentrated so hard on her own efforts that intrigued him, and moved on towards the coffee shop. He ordered his coffee from a bored looking teenaged girl who looked him up and down but evidently decided he wouldn't annoy her parents enough to bother with. As he waited he glanced around the small warm steamy room. As he always did, he found himself watching the other customers. A harassed-looking man a few years older than he was and a pretty young girl were sitting near the back. The girl looked ready to burst into tears and he was looking anywhere but at her, his body language rigid in the over-stuffed armchair and his rather small eyes darting behind his glasses. A girl in her twenties was typing rapidly at her laptop, a pile of paper not unlike the paperwork awaiting him back at the office was at her elbow.

She paused in her typing, looking thoughtful. She smiled at him coyly when she caught him looking at her. She had lovely warm eyes. He nodded and turned away. Being late, his coffee was ready much quicker than usual and he was soon out in the cold again. As he passed the gym a sudden surge of people indicated a class had ended. Stumbling almost immediately into the girl he'd watched earlier, he discovered which class it was.

"Sorry." He tightened his grip on his coffee before it spilled over the pair of them.

"You haven't done anything." She commented in amusement, leaning back to peer up at him.

"Well I saw the class in there, I like my kidneys where they are." He pointed out drily.

She stared at him for a moment and then a smile curled her lower lip. Being so close to her, he could now see that everything seemed to curve upwards. Her long eyelashes almost touched her eyelids and the tip of her freckled nose turned upwards. Her luscious lower lip pulled up at the corners softened a thinner upper lip. Her fern-green eyes were studying him in amusement. Like most of the girls surging past them, she had showered to get rid of the sweat. Her hair was slicked straight back, emphasising her high cheekbones and dripping water steadily down her back. She must have been freezing in the cold winter air.

She, in turn, was studying him just as intently. He was very attractive, she decided. An entire head taller than her, with very broad shoulders. He had a head of ruffled black curls peppered with grey and intent eyes. They were a honey-almond colour in the light cast from the gym besides them.

"Robert Goren."

She shook his hand. She kept him hanging for a moment. He cocked his head to the side and watched her.

"Angel Baudelaire."

They both knew she was lying. His dark eyebrows lifted but she met his gaze head on, she showed none of the indicators he was used to spotting in liars. Which meant she was either a very good liar, or she was telling the truth. He had his doubts about the latter.

"Interesting name." He said pointedly.

She didn't reply, just looked straight back at him with a slight smile playing on her lips.

"It's a preference." Her eyes narrowed wickedly. "Robert." She purred until the syllables rolled off her tongue like honey.

There was a distant rumbling. The sky was darkening ominously and the temperature had plummeted even more. She pulled her gym bag further up her shoulder and took a few steps backwards.

"Maybe I'll see you around, Detective."

Her voice was lilting and teasing again. She took another step back.

"How did you know—"

He didn't seem impressed or suspicious, just curious. She stopped her retreat for a moment.

"You walk and talk 'cop'." She teased, emerging back into the light of the gym window. "The Detective part was a guess though."

He watched her as she left, admiring the loping walk. She looked like a dancer again.

He'd just made it back to the office when the sky split open. Seeing the mountain of paperwork still waiting for him, he grabbed his phone.

"Hey Cecilia, can you do me a favour? Can you run the name Angel Baudelaire through the system for me?"

"That must have been one hell of a coffee." Eames said pointedly. He cocked his head. "You're all pink. Can't stop grinning either."

He shrugged in that expressive way Eames was used to by now but didn't reply.

* * *

><p>It was a few days until Cecilia got back to him about Angel. It was almost difficult for him to admit, even to himself, how much he'd thought about her since their meeting. She was so intriguing, so puzzling.<p>

"Hey Goren." Cecilia's chirpy voice drove a lot of the senior detectives nuts, even when she was relaying some gruesome detail that might break their case it irritated them. "This Angel chick, she's a babe."

"She's got a record?"

Goren digested the possibility. He rarely found normal people as fascinating as the criminals he met every day. If she was a criminal, that would explain why he'd found her so interesting.

"Not that I can find. Couple of parking tickets that's all. Pretty hot car she was in too." Cecilia babbled happily, thoroughly overexcited at the prospect of a Goren-centred mystery.

"Can you send me the file? Thanks, Cecilia."

"Don't you want her address?" Cecilia asked excitedly.

Goren considered it, but that was just this side of stalking.

When the file arrived he was disappointed. There was nothing in it but the parking tickets Cecilia had mentioned. His phone rang as he was shoving the file in his drawer.

"Hello, Detective."

The purring voice made his toes curl. He could feel heat spreading under his collar as she chuckled.

"How did you get this number?"

Eames had just wandered in with a bleary eyed early-morning look on her face and a tray of coffees. Goren nodded at her and accepted his coffee. Eames, with her usual sharp eye, could tell something was up. She gave him his privacy but he saw the glances she kept throwing his way.

"Oh Robert." That husky almost mocking voice cut straight through the first thing in the morning bustle surrounding him. "I have so many talents you don't know about yet."

Before he knew what he was doing, her gentle persuasive voice had managed to get him to agree to meet her for a drink that night.

"I'll be working, but I can squeeze you in." She made it sound infinitely promising and Goren felt a bead of sweat trickling down his spine.

Eames was openly staring at him when he hung up. They'd been partners for so long now, they knew each other's patterns. Goren carefully collected all of his thoughts and arranged them before saying anything but Eames could never keep it in, she let her thoughts and theories pour out as she worked through them. Goren waited and sure enough;

"Good call?"

Goren was excellent at controlling his features, masking all of his emotions if need be. He knew he hadn't given anything away while he was on the phone, but Eames knew him too well.

"A friend." He was also a master at evasive techniques.

Being completely professional, Goren managed to push all thoughts of Angel out of his mind as he filled in paperwork, spoke to a couple of witnesses in a case that was just about to go to court and followed up a few leads on a cold case of his. As he said goodbye to Eames, however, he felt something like anxiety flickering in his chest. Eames peered at him in amazement as he left, unused to him leaving before she did.

The bar where he'd arranged to meet Angel was a very expensive, very swanky hotel. He paused on the threshold, wondering what she'd meant about having to work. Surely not. A prostitute was hardly likely to invite a policeman to arrest her.

"You're making the place look untidy, Detective."

He could feel her behind him like a live flame. He turned with a smile and stared at her. Her silky red locks had been transformed into a halo of blonde bubble-curls. The short pixie cut exposed her long slender neck. A pendent hung around her throat, what seemed to be a sword made of one flawless crystal which matched the drops at her ears. It dangled enticingly just above the barest hint of cleavage swelling out of her purple velvet dress. Her lips had been painted the faintest coral with a hint of gold. In her matching purple heels she was almost as tall as he was.

"Don't worry, I'm only blonde for the night." She laughed, tilting her head back so the curls caught the light.

She offered no other explanation, stepping around him and leading him into the dimly lit bar. With purpose she headed for a table in the corner. They could see the whole room from there as they slid onto the corner sofa. She ordered a glass of wine and he ordered a scotch, needing something to steady his strangely twitchy nerves.

"I didn't think you'd come." She said after they'd been given their drinks.

Goren found he didn't need the scotch as much as he'd thought he did. He took a small sip. She hadn't touched her wine.

"Didn't you?" He asked doubtfully, a teasing glint in his eye.

She looked pensive for a moment, running her fingertips along the stem of her glass. Her nails were purple too. Then her face split into the sexy smile again and her eyes sparkled in the light from the lamp above them.

"No. I knew you'd come."

There was no arrogance in her voice. He'd been out with those kinds of women, the pretty ones who were only attracted to him because of the job. They had a certain way of speaking. They knew they were beautiful and that men wanted them, knew they could get a man to do almost anything. It was in their every movement, their voices were laced with it. When Angel spoke, however, the confidence didn't stem from arrogance but from absolute certainty that she knew herself and her attractiveness well enough without needing to flaunt it.

"There's something about me, isn't there?"

He nodded but neither of them elaborated. He was intrigued at how attracted he was to her. It wasn't just her beauty, although he was very aware of that at the moment. They were sitting at right angles, his long legs taking up his entire half of the round table. He could see the elegant length of her back, her curves in the skin-tight dress and her long bare legs.

"There's something about you." She went on in her husky musical voice.

She peered at him from under her lashes. He could feel fire spreading through him. It had been a long time since anyone had affected him like this. He took a gulp of scotch.

"You're very still."

She was looking around the room, her vivid green eyes intent. He scanned her profile. Technically he'd seen, and dated, more beautiful women. But he'd never met anyone who exuded so much sexiness. It was the way she presented herself, take it or leave it. If he got up and left right now, she'd probably show nothing but a little amusement, maybe some curiosity. He wondered what she'd do if he kissed her. He read people, that's what he did and what he was good at. He couldn't get a bead on her at all. She didn't seem the type to play mind games.

"Are you always this still?"

The way she looked at him so suddenly made a flush begin to creep over his cheeks. She gave him a long lingering glance that nailed him to the spot.

"Never." He said after another sip of his drink, trying to figure out where his usual poise had gone. "In interrogations I rarely stand still."

She'd been watching something across the room but a smirk creased her lips again.

"You're like a pool of water, perfectly calm and smooth on the surface with no indication of what's underneath." She cocked her head to the side in an almost perfect imitation of his own little quirk. "Or maybe you're more like a deer in the headlights. What do you think I'm going to do to you?"

For a brief moment he contemplated kissing her and he was so jolted by the unexpected urge, he downed the rest of his scotch. Angel excused herself and disappeared across the room. Goren tried to cling onto some semblance of normality by doing what he did best. He studied the occupants of the bar. They were mainly glamorous women of all ages, done up in expensive dresses and dripping jewels. The men wore expensively cut suits and gold jewellery and they laughed loudly amongst themselves.

When Angel returned a long while later, Goren was absurdly pleased to see she'd redone her make up. He must pull himself together. Anyone would think he'd never met a woman before. He was actually quite good with them usually but this one threw him for a loop.

"Are you going to tell me your real name?" He asked once she'd sat back down, wafting a spicy citrus perfume.

"Does it matter, Robert?"

"No one calls me Robert." Goren told her idly. "Bobby or Goren. Never Robert."

She reached out a fingertip and trailed it along his cheekbone, down his nose and touched the corner of his lips. It wasn't an invitation, more an investigatory touch but Goren had never been more attuned to anybody in his life.

"You don't look like a Bobby. Bobbys are serious." She pulled her face into an exaggeratedly serious expression.

Even with her lips in a rather gruesome frown and her brows pulled low over her narrowed eyes, she was intensely seductive. Bobby grinned, first at the ridiculous look on her face, and then he chuckled at what she'd said. People had accused him of being a lot of things over the years, not being serious definitely wasn't one of them. She leaned back with a satisfied look on her face.

"I like it when you smile."

They fell into silence again, companionable silence. Angel had the feeling that there was a lot of silence around Goren. He hadn't changed out of his work suit. Stubble was beginning to darken his jaw-line. She was very attracted to him. She knew he was attracted to her. She'd contemplated taking him to bed tonight but she had work to do, and she didn't think Goren was the quickie type. She shivered, excited at the thought.

"Angelica." She suddenly said, watching his expressionless face for a reaction. "My name." She leaned in so closely she could smell the distinct scent he carried, a heady mix of Old Spice, coffee and a distinct undertone that must have been all Goren. "I'm afraid I can't divulge my real surname." She leaned in even closer. "Can't have you looking me up. I'd lose all my mystery."

She could have kissed him, he turned towards her but there was no expectation in his eyes. Most men would have been slavering at her being this close to them, her velvet bosom was barely a centimetre from his jacketed arm and she knew he could smell the grapefruit and papaya shampoo she'd used earlier. He returned her enquiring gaze with nothing but cool amusement in his eyes. They were dark in the dim lighting.

"This could get very complicated." She sighed, leaning back in her seat.

Goren returned home that night even more intrigued with Angel. Angelica. She hadn't revealed what work she'd been doing at the hotel, but they hadn't run out of things to talk about. When she wasn't gazing at him with a goading look in her emerald green eyes, almost willing him to pounce on her as she knew he wanted to, they'd discussed mainly her. Goren had never met anyone who had such an uncanny ability to tell so many things about themselves without really revealing anything. He knew her taste in films, mainly horror; books, mainly fantasy, historical fiction and Harry Potter of course; theatre, musicals. She hated cooking. She played the violin. She was fully trained in three different martial arts. She spoke eleven languages.

Goren's talent for extricating information was almost equalled by hers, often throughout the night he found himself revealing something personal without even realising. When he'd called her on it she'd given him that sultry look from under her eyelashes again. She'd pointed out that it wasn't revealing himself that was bugging him, merely the fact that she could get him to reveal so much. He'd been rattled by how easily she could read him, as if she could see straight down into his centre. Afterwards he'd realised that she'd deflected him yet again. It had been almost like an interrogation, the push and pull of offering information to retrieve information but with an added frisson of their attraction sizzling underneath the whole time.

Strangely enough the longer it had gone on, the more attracted he had become. It was like suddenly finding yourself playing chess with a master after months of playing with amateurs. His blood had woken up and, as he poured himself a coffee to counteract the scotches, his mind was thrumming. He'd never met anyone like her.

He stripped out of his suit and jumped into the shower, letting the hot water needle his tired skin. He still didn't know anything about her. As he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, he realised that he didn't know how to get in contact with her again. When they'd left she'd flagged down a cab right outside the hotel, she'd pressed her lips briefly against his cheek and vanished.

As Goren checked his alarm and clambered into bed, he decided he'd track her down tomorrow. After all, she could be a lunatic or anything. A very attractive lunatic.


	2. In Your Skin

**A/N:** don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'In Your Skin' by Lifehouse (The whole album just generally works for this fic :) )

**Smoke and Mirrors**

**Chapter Two**

Throw stones, breaking bones  
>Then wonder why you run for cover<br>You fight the world from inside  
>Lay down, playing dead<br>Turn the pages, just another  
>Wasted day in your mind<br>You live to run away  
>But fear's the hardest act to follow<br>Let me let you in  
>Hold on another day<br>Face the truth, it's hard to swallow  
>It's time to begin<br>There's only one life  
>In your skin<br>Wake up, take a breath  
>Remember why you're even breathing<br>You're still alive  
>Give in, give it up<br>You're the only one believing  
>In all of your lies<br>You live to run away  
>But fear's the hardest act to follow<br>Let me let you in

Because he rarely used it, most people weren't aware how charming Goren could be. Cecilia, who had a little bit of a crush on the handsome grizzled detective, was therefore floored when he popped into her office with a coffee and a donut one morning. He asked her about her nephews, admiring their photograph on her cluttered desk. When he asked for that pretty girl's address she felt a little deflated. _But__you__never__know,__she__might__be__a__suspect__or__something_ Cecilia thought hopefully as she watched his broad departing back.

Goren felt a little guilty about using Cecilia's crush on him for his own ends, but it was quite obvious from the death glare that handsome young Officer Spencer was quite as enamoured of her as she was of Goren. It would sort itself out. Sweet-talking Cecilia was one thing, deflecting Eames's sharp instincts was quite another. She was deeply immersed in the report she was reading, absently stirring her coffee with her pen without noticing.

"I'm gonna take an hour." He told her as he pulled on his coat, flipping through a lab report that had been deposited on his desk in his absence.

"You're all mystery at the moment." She commented without looking up from her report.

"We're all about mysteries, aren't we?"

She grinned as he left. Something was definitely up with her dependable old partner.

* * *

><p>Goren stared at the apartment block for a while. It looked way out of his price range. A big stripy awning extended over the royal blue carpet leading to the shiny doors. A doorman in a matching blue and gold suit eyed him suspiciously. Goren walked straight in. The foyer was all marble and gilt. On one side was a desk where a pretty blonde girl was painting her nails a vivid yellow. On the other side a door led to the mail room. Goren headed for the elevators. According to her file Angel lived on the top floor. One of two penthouses. The doors slid open silently and he stepped straight into her apartment.<p>

It was immaculately decorated. The hallway he emerged into was papered with expensive cream wallpaper printed with tiny scarlet flowers. A basset hound with enormous droopy brown eyes padded around the corner and sniffed him. Some guard dog. He licked Goren's shoes and headed back the way he'd come. Goren followed him. Angel was sitting on one of her two peacock blue sofas. A magazine was open in her lap. The basset hound heaved himself up next to her and settled down with a martyred sigh.

Angel dropped her magazine onto the floor, uncurled her long legs and wandered over to greet him. She didn't look the slightest bit surprised to see him randomly appearing in the middle of her home. She had red hair again. It fell in a shiny braid down her back. She'd obviously just got out of the shower. Her bare legs were still damp under her black denim cut offs and there was a spot of body lotion she'd missed on the shoulder bared by her over-sized white shirt. She walked right up to him, for a moment he thought she wasn't going to stop, and kissed his cheek.

"Don't mind Captain." She waved at the basset hound as she led him over to the other sofa. "Drink?"

As she disappeared into the kitchen to get him some coffee, he studied the rest of the room. You could tell a lot about a person from their home. The walls were a very pale yellow and the only pictures were a pretty ballerina above the fireplace, a night-time seascape and a painting of a sunset. Most of the spare wall was covered by an absolutely huge white bookcase, every spare inch filled with books and DVDs. All alphabetized. She had one of those fancy TVs built into the wall. Huge picture windows made up the other two walls not leading back into the apartment. A big vase of blue and green dahlias sat on the white coffee table before him. Everything was neat and orderly, but there was a definite sense that somebody lived there.

He peered into the magazine rack. They were mainly about movies or horses. Unable to sit still for long, he got up and did a circuit of the room. There was a little glass cabinet built into the corner which held photographs and a few trophies. Her violin case stood next to a music stand near the window but out of direct sunlight. There was a huge cello case propped up against another bookcase.

"Captain?" He asked as she returned with his coffee in a jaunty bright yellow mug and they resumed their seats.

"Yes. Named after Captain Wentworth from my favourite book." She scratched the dog fondly behind the ears.

He lifted his tail in thanks, opening one eye and studying the plate of biscuits.

"_Persuasion_." Goren took a sip of his coffee. It was bloody good. "Jane Austen."

She grinned, dipping a biscuit in her cup and feeding it to Captain.

"Not a very good guard dog. He licked my shoes and wandered off." Goren pointed out.

"Captain, like me, is an excellent judge of character." She said firmly, wrapping her hands around her hot mug.

"I could have been anyone." Goren persisted as she fed Captain another biscuit.

"The penthouse next door has a separate entrance on the opposite street. I usually have a code set on the elevator. Without it you can only get to the floor below." She was looking at him from under her lashes again, they were starfished from the shower. "I turned it off last night."

Goren picked up the implication but didn't reply. He was scanning the room. The only way in or out appeared to be the lift but there must have been another way in case of a fire. He watched her slender hand caressing Captain's long silky ears.

"You knew I'd come?" Goren asked curiously, draining the last of his coffee.

"I knew you'd come." She agreed, then she dropped her hands into her lap, looking suddenly vulnerable. "Well I hoped you'd come."

"I came." Goren said pointlessly, feeling suddenly hot under the collar.

"Really?" She purred wickedly, the vulnerability vanishing in a flash. "Is that why you're here?"

Goren didn't blush, but if he did he certainly would have been right now. He found it amazing how she could be so different to the way she had last night, and still be so sexy. She got to her feet and circled the coffee table. She leaned over him until her braid was swinging in front of his nose and removed the coffee cup from his hand.

"Why don't I give you the tour, Detective."

As usual his curiosity got the better of him and he followed her across the living room. She pushed open a door. It was the kitchen. Brightly painted in duck egg blue with country style white cabinets and a little breakfast bar tucked against another window. There was a vase of blue dahlias on the windowsill. The next room was the dining room, richly decorated in a plum purple with a big glass and silver table and matching chairs. There was a very tall vase of purple orchids in the centre of the table although it wasn't laid out. She clearly wasn't expecting any dinner parties any time soon. She pushed open the next door.

"My study." She said proudly.

This was clearly where she spent most of her time. The rather jazzy polka dotted wallpaper was mostly covered by posters of movies and bands. A huge corkboard was filled with tickets for concerts and day trips and stubs for theme parks and carnivals. Next to it was a rather large board completely covered with photographs. They looked like college and school snaps, mainly groups grinning like maniacs or Angel and random other people. He tried to sidle over and catch a better glimpse of a younger Angel but she was barring his way. Her desk was almost as bad as his own. Pages were strewn all over its dark surface. Her laptop was half buried under it all. Post it notes were stuck all over the side of another bookcase next to the desk. Goren took a closer look.

"The occult?" He couldn't help asking, holding up one of the books from her shelf.

"It's a hobby." She shrugged, rifling through her desk. "I research the supernatural."

She wasn't as defensive as he would have thought she'd be. She clearly wasn't ashamed of her strange hobby. He put the book back. The one next to it was a Harley Davidson manual. There was a book on advanced yoga, how to care for gymnastics injuries, several books on restoring vintage cars and several books on ballet.

"You must have a lot of spare time." He commented, hoping she'd drop a hint about her work.

"I work strange hours. I wanted a piano but it wouldn't fit."

She knew exactly what he was after and she wasn't giving him anything. She liked that he kept on trying though. She ushered him out. The next room was the guest bathroom. Completely white with the occasional random orange tile for emphasis. There was a big steam shower and a deep tub.

"I don't really get many guests." She said sheepishly as she showed him the two guest bedrooms.

They were pretty small compared to all the others, one right next to each other. They were still ravishingly decorated though, one in a muted turquoise and one in pale green.

With a flourish she threw open the door to her bedroom. The yellow wallpaper was covered with tiny paintings of exotic birds. Her bed was absolutely huge. A four poster with cream silks at each post. Frothy white pillows at one end and a pretty bedspread spotted with daisies. She was clearly about to embark on one of their big jobs, a suitcase was open on the trunk at the bottom of her bed spilling out an array of clothes. He spotted a beautiful dress, its kingfisher blue bright against the dark clothes underneath. He wondered again what she did for a living. What kind of business trip included a dress like that? She went over to the suitcase and continued folding up the clothes. He peered around the room. He was so hungry for knowledge about this beautiful girl, he prowled around taking everything in. She had a very pretty, surprisingly girly, vanity table opposite the bed. It was littered with little bottles and make up debris. An open bottle wafted the scent he'd smelt on her last night. The curly blonde wig was hanging over the back of the chair. The door to her walk in wardrobe was half open and he glimpsed very long racks of expensive, jewel-bright dresses and all sorts of suits on the other side. She had a lot of shoes too. That came as less of a surprise, he'd never met a woman who didn't have shoes at least into the double numbers.

He scanned the room. She had flowers in every room, even the unused spare rooms. He felt a flicker of satisfaction when he saw the vases of bright sunflowers on the tables either side of the bed. She was halfway through _The__Count__of__Monte__Cristo_ in its original French. It was a worn copy, she'd obviously read it many times before. There were a pair of reading glasses there too.

"This is my bathroom."

He followed her across the room, passing an antique-looking full-length mirror and a big round wicker chair draped with her dress from the night before. Her shoes were besides it. Her bathroom was painted a deep sea-blue with intricate designs of mermaids and dolphins and all kinds of tropical fish. She had a big claw-foot tub in the centre of the room on a little raised platform. A steam shower stood in the corner.

"Did you paint all these?" Goren asked, his nose practically touching the wall as he examined a mermaid.

"Nah. Not that talented." She laughed.

She pulled herself up to sit on the marble cabinet under the mirror and watched him taking everything in. He was so sexy when he got that analyzing look on his face. She could see him absorbing all the details of her life. He finally came back to her. Sitting on the counter she was almost the same height as him.

"Why exactly are you here, Detective?" She asked softly.

She trailed her fingers over his features, tracing his cheekbones, his long straight nose and his sideburns, the strong jaw-line and the sturdy chin. He let her, watching her watching him. This close he could see the freckles on her nose, her long feathery lashes inky black rather than the dark red of her hair. If you took her piece by piece she wasn't classically beautiful. Her cheekbones were a little too high, her upper lip was a little too thin and her nose a little too snub… and yet there was definitely something there.

"Kiss me."

Her breath was sweet against his cheek. He waited a fraction. She didn't look worried that he wouldn't obey her. Her lashes were lowered over her brilliant green eyes and her lips were slightly pursed in anticipation. He was so busy studying her, he forgot to kiss her. She didn't seem offended but she did slide down off the countertop. The mood snapped as audibly as a gunshot. She only managed a few steps before he grabbed her. She let him yank her back, surprisingly gently for someone his size, and kiss her. It was a lazy exploratory kiss, both of them delving into each other. She was quite tall so she wasn't used to having to lean so far up. Goren's arm wrapped around her waist and drew her closer.

When they separated they stared at each other. There was no question in his eyes, he knew all the things he was good at.

She reached up and kissed him again. This time she put all of her attraction to him into it.

"Impressive." She murmured huskily when they broke apart, glad her voice wasn't shaking as much as her knees were.

Her heart was thumping loudly in her throat. She felt like her fifteen year old self fumbling in the dark for the first time with Tony Smithson in the back seat of his dad's Buick. She'd been so excited but so terrified. A flush had crept over Goren's cheeks and he didn't ask her to explain her statement.

The ringing of Goren's phone echoed loudly in the tiled room. As he answered it Angel wandered off. When he'd finished his call he went in search of her. She was on the phone in her study, her face was more serious than he'd ever seen it as she stared unseeingly out of the big picture window.

"I'll be there, boss." She hung up and turned towards him. "That was the bat signal."

He cocked his head, watching as she gathered up some of the scattered papers. He wasn't close enough to see what they were but they looked like plans and blueprints of some sort. She straightened them all up and slid them into a manila folder which she shoved into a drawer.

"So you're a superhero?"

She rolled one shoulder back in a half shrug.

"The pay's crap but the outfits are hot." She reached up and pulled out the tie in her hair.

She untangled the braid and shook it out. It rippled in glossy waves over her shoulders.

"I have a plane to catch." She announced, eyeing him carefully for his reaction.

He didn't reply, just followed her into her bedroom and watched as she finished packing. Captain trotted in, took a long baleful look at the height of the bed and settled down in a patch of sunlight on the golden yellow rug instead.

Goren glanced into the suitcase. There wasn't actually that much in there. He didn't think she'd be away for that long. She read his mind.

"A few days probably. Unless there're complications." She called over her shoulder as she headed for the wardrobe.

"Shouldn't you be working, Detective?" She paused, holding up a silky nightgown for a moment. "Keeping innocent people safe?"

She decided against the nightdress and tossed it to one side. She held up a single hot pink heel and frowned, then headed for her wardrobe. She emerged with the missing heel and another dress draped over her arm, which she folded up and packed away. She went into her wardrobe again to change.

"You're not an innocent?" Goren asked, trying not to look through the half open wardrobe door where he could see her silhouette.

"I think there are stages of innocence." Her voice was muffled as she pulled off her top. "I think compared to some people I'm pretty damn innocent, but compared to some…" She emerged from the wardrobe in a camel coloured suede dress which ended abruptly at mid-thigh. "I'm thoroughly wicked."

Her dress was high at the neck and long-sleeved and she'd pulled on over-the-knee socks under knee-high suede flat boots. It was almost winter so he couldn't tell from the outfit whereabouts she was heading. Goren had never seen anyone he'd desired more.

"You'll miss me."

She was sitting at the vanity, brushing out her long hair over her suede shoulders. She added some mascara and a spritz of perfume. It was different to the one she'd worn last night. Subtler. Goren's phone buzzed again, an increasingly irritated Eames, who was catching hell for his absence. Angel led him to the elevator, wrapping him in her warm scented embrace.

"I'll see you when I get back."

It was almost a question. Almost. She peered calmly up at him, her eyes bright under her long lashes and the plump shell of her lip curved into a half-smile. She was delicate in his arms, slender and willowy but her long lithe limbs were well muscled. She straightened his tie, brushing her fingers against his shirt.

"Goodbye, Detective."

* * *

><p><strong>sell<strong> – thanks I'll try my best, I never really got into the Goren/Eames pairing myself.

**Nicoline** – me too :D


	3. Wrecking Ball

**A/N:** don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'Wrecking Ball' by Lifehouse

**Smoke and Mirrors**

**Chapter Three**

I'm alone, wandering in your space  
>Waiting for a sign of life<br>Looking so out of place  
>Then you whisper to me, it doesn't matter what you say<br>I feel the weight against the wind  
>The demolition of me caving in<br>And I'm always swinging on this wrecking ball  
>While you're building up and breaking down my wall<br>You push and pull, you give and take  
>And through it all I gravitate to you<br>I'm a fool, a mechanical tool for you  
>You've got all the switches and levers to blow my cool<br>And when you know I'm broken  
>That's when you come shining through<br>You set me up to knock me down  
>And leave my shattered pieces on the ground<br>And I'm always swinging on this wrecking ball  
>While you're building up and breaking down my wall<br>I'm not ready to break  
>You push and pull, you give and take<br>And through it all I gravitate to you

Goren was pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee when the knock came. He paused. One, he didn't know anyone who would be knocking on his door at nearly midnight and two, he'd been just about to settle down with a new book he'd been waiting for. Something told him whoever was on the other side of the door wasn't a threat. He put down his coffee and pulled open the door.

Angel had obviously been caught in the downpour. Her hair was clinging to her head and bedraggled tails trailed over her shoulders. Her black cashmere sweater was ruined, sticking to every inch of her torso. Her skin-tight jeans were shining with rainwater they'd soaked in so much.

"Are you going to leave me out here, Detective? I think I've already ruined the ugly carpet."

There was a small puddle spreading around her. He stood back so she could come in. She didn't have any bags, not even a purse. She must have walked all the way from her penthouse. No wonder she was wet.

"The power's out at my place." She was shivering madly now that she was inside and out of the deluge.

The implication was there but neither of them said it. She didn't have anywhere else to go.

"Where's Captain?" He asked as he led her down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"Still with the nice little old lady who takes care of him when I'm away."

Angel was staring at everything, taking everything his apartment said about him in. He sat her down at his small kitchen table, handed her the coffee he'd poured for himself and disappeared. His kitchen was very tidy. The plate from his dinner was drying by the sink. A book was open on the counter besides the coffee pot. Goren returned with towels. He handed them to her and she wrapped her hair up in one. He gave her a sweater and a clean pair of sweatpants and pointed her towards the bathroom.

She took off her boots and padded barefoot down the hall and into the bathroom. She looked like a wreck, she thought ruefully as she stared at her reflection. Running the hot water she stripped out of her sopping clothes and rinsed all the rainwater away in the shower. Her makeup had streaked all over her cheekbones, by the time she'd rubbed it all away her cheeks were bright pink. She found a comb in the medicine cabinet and she sat down to untangle her hair. By the time she was done she was pretty much dry and beginning to shiver in the big towel. She pulled on the sweats. The hems pooled around her feet and had to be tied tight to keep them up on her flat stomach. The jumper flopped over her hands but it was immensely comfortable.

All in all she looked young and vulnerable and so pretty with her fresh scrubbed face and her long hair already beginning to curl down her back, that Goren blinked at her for a moment when she came back into the kitchen. He'd cleared up the puddle she'd made.

"You were in there for a while. I thought you might be hungry."

A plate of food wafting delicious aromas was sitting at the table. Angel tucked straight in. He'd kept it simple for her, not knowing what she liked. Pasta and chicken in a creamy cheese sauce.

"You can cook." She finally said, waving her fork accusingly at him.

He looked back at her.

"How was your trip?"

She shrugged and forked up some more pasta. She was avoiding his eye, something he wasn't used to her doing. Usually she looked him right in the eye, whether she was lying to him or not.

"Successful." She said casually, finishing off the last of the chicken.

He cleaned her plate as she waited in the living room for him. She curled up in a big leather armchair by the window, her feet tucked under her to keep warm. He had a big picture window that overlooked a small grassy patch of land with a few trees. She raised the wooden blinds and watched the torrential rain still bucketing down outside. There was no wind, just plenty of rain. She'd only turned the table lamp on to reduce the glare on the window so he was practically on top of her before she acknowledged him in the shadowy room. He sat down silently in the chair opposite her.

"I used to watch the rain with my Granddad you know." She said conversationally, not turning around to look at him. "We lived near the coast. He had a really big house right on the edge of a cliff. We used to sit in the attic and watch the storms at sea."

He handed her another cup of coffee.

"In England?" Goren prodded, sipping his coffee and watching her profile as she peered out of the window.

He saw the muscles tighten at the base of her neck through her wet hair, the only indication that he'd surprised her.

"I've been puzzling over your accent." Goren settled back in his chair and watched her. "There's a distinct English pattern to your vowels but there's also some southern inflection and a little bit of something I can't quite figure out."

He was waiting for her to reply, affirmative or not but she was silent. When he realised her mug was drooping in her cupped hands he crossed the room. She'd fallen asleep in the chair, her head cradled against it. He watched her for a moment. She looked very peaceful and very pretty, her long lashes fanned out along her cheeks and the briefest of smiles curving her lips.

She woke up when he lifted her out of the chair but she didn't let on. It had been a long time since a man had handled her this gently. She could feel the hard plane of his chest against her cheek as he carried her. He slipped her onto the bed carefully, covering her with a blanket. She stretched a little, just enough to expose a tantalizing amount of bare flesh at her waist. She waited for his reaction. Through her lowered lashes she could see him clearly enough, his jaw had tightened when she'd moved so she knew he'd noticed her bare navel. He left quietly, pulling the door closed behind him.

* * *

><p>The rain woke him up. It was lashing wildly against his window and for a moment he forgot why he was on the sofa. Usually he fell asleep on the sofa if he'd brought a case file home with him. There wasn't a case file on his coffee table. He rubbed his eyes wearily, it was still dark. He dragged himself up from the couch. For some reason he was bone tired. He pushed open his bedroom door, expecting her to be sound asleep or gone. She was curled up in front of the big picture window, his blankets wrapped around her. He thought she was asleep and he was about to close the door again when she stirred.<p>

Her eyes were shining brightly in the reflected light of the city outside. She got up.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" He asked her as she deposited the blankets back on the bed.

"I need to go home."

He blinked.

"It's the middle of the night." He protested as she sat down on the bed to pull on her still wet clothes.

"The power's back on." She pointed out, tapping his alarm clock with her finger. The LED screen was lit again, flashing double zeros waiting to be programmed.

She went into the bathroom to get changed.

"You can borrow the clothes, you know."

She shrugged as she came out, her skin cold from the damp clothes.

"Why get a whole new set of clothes wet?"

She handed him his clothes back. They smelt faintly of her. He tried to convince her to stay all the way to the door. It was deathly silent in the hallway, an indication of how late it must be.

"You really shouldn't go out in this again."

She was already shivering again.

"Don't worry about it, I've lived through worse." She broke off when her phone rang, echoing down the silent hallway.

She pulled it out of her trouser pocket with a frown, tapping the screen and cutting off the noise. She broke into rapid Russian, speaking so quickly that Goren barely managed to catch the gist of the conversation. She hung up abruptly and the phone rang again almost instantly.

"Yeah, thanks I got that part." She snapped. "Again? We only just got back." She looked very tired all of a sudden, she seemed to have forgotten that he was standing there. "Why do I have to go, I've done my part."

She listened intently, one hand absently fiddling with the bell besides the doorframe. She nibbled her lower lip irritably, staring down at the dark carpet without really seeing it.

"You owe me for this, boss." She grumbled as she hung up.

"You speak Russian." Goren observed, taking her hand from the bell where she was running her finger along the frame convulsively.

"And French, Spanish, German, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, Urdu, Ukrainian, Polish and I can read and write Ancient Egyptian, Latin and Sanskrit." She reeled off absently, doing something with her phone. "But who's counting."

She grinned and he realised that he still had her hand in his. He let go.

"Is that what you do?"

She cocked her head to the side appraisingly.

"Speak languages for a living?" She grinned coyly. "You could say that. I do a lot of communicating." She took a step towards him and placed her palm on his chest. "I can't tell you anymore, I'd have to kill you." She whispered conspiratorially.

A beeping noise distracted them. They both looked down at Angel's phone but it was silent and docile in her hand. Goren retreated back into his apartment for his phone. By the time he'd hung up she'd gone.

* * *

><p>"I hope you skipped breakfast." The Medical Examiner warned them.<p>

"Too early for breakfast, my dinner might be a problem though." Eames grumbled, pulling up the collar of her coat and burrowing into it against the rain.

The scene was a mess. The rain was still pouring down, all the evidence was probably in the sewer by now. The body was drenched, all the blood had been washed away. The techs were grumbling about the early call-out, the crappy weather and the likelihood that the lack of useable evidence would automatically be blamed on them.

"We don't have much. A footprint." One of the techs told them as Goren leaned over the body.

"Size thirteen. Looks like a military style boot." He called over the constant rattle of the rain.

"Size thirteen? Do they even make shoes that big?" The tech muttered.

Eames and the tech exchanged a look and then peered down at Goren's sizeable feet. He didn't comment, busy extracting something from the victim's throat.

"We found this as well. In her pocket." The tech held up a sheet of paper in a plastic evidence bag.

Goren took it from her and wiped the worst of the rainwater from the plastic. It was an ordinary A4 sheet, completely covered front and back with indecipherable scrawlings in miniscule cramped writing.

"What language is that?" Eames asked Goren expectantly. "Is that Russian?"

"No." Goren shook his head. "Definitely a Slavic language, though." He held up what he'd found in her throat.

"What's that?" Eames took it from him and squinted at it closely. "A pendent?"

It was a big oval shaped gold pendent on a matching chain, set with tiny diamonds in the shape of a _Z_. Goren pointed at the tiny hinges.

"A locket." He moved Eames's hand so the bright portable lights they'd set up illuminated the face of the locket. "It was in her throat. Is that a bird? Looks like an eagle maybe."

"In her throat?" Eames repeated queasily.

She thrust it back at Goren. He was engrossed in the locket, rotating it in the light.

"Maybe a falcon." He put the locket in the bag a tech was offering him. "That's an odd emblem to have on a piece of jewellery. Maybe part of a crest. A family crest."

"We'll take it to the lab, see if we can find any references."

The tech sealed the bag up.

"Look at Russian families." Goren advised, wandering off when his phone vibrated against his ribs.

"How does he do that?" The tech asked Eames as they watched his departing back.

"I don't ask anymore." She sighed.

* * *

><p>"We've been looking for days, there's no sign of any Russian families that use that specific falcon in their crest. Definitely none with a Z."<p>

Eames rubbed her face tiredly and pushed the files away from her.

"There has to be something, it's all we've got to go on." Goren pointed out, poring over a huge musty old book he'd dug out of the library.

"Did you try first names beginning with a Z?" The Captain suggested.

"First names, last names, middle names, double-barrelled names, nicknames, maiden names, married names, dog names, cat names. Nothing." Eames reeled off, indicating the huge pile of files they'd already gone through.

"You're sure it's a falcon?"

Eames looked at Goren who was nodding without looking up from the book he was buried in. When his desk phone rang he still didn't look up, fumbling along his desk with one hand.

"Goren." He blinked and finally raised his head. "I'll be right down."

"Got something?" Eames asked hopefully, anything to get them somewhere.

"Personal call." He said evasively, pulling on his coat and grabbing his badge and gun.

Angel was leaning against the front desk, looking out of place amongst the uniforms and suits in torn faded jeans, a long-sleeved red top and black high-tops. Her long hair was pulled back in a red ribbon that clashed with her hair. Whatever she was saying to the officer behind the desk, he was pink around the ears and grinning shyly.

"Hey." She smiled and pushed away from the desk when she saw him. "I didn't think there was much point going to your apartment."

Her cheeks were flushed and she was bobbing on her toes. Either she was very pleased to see him, or her business trip had gone very well.

"You look tired, Detective. I'll buy you a coffee." She put her arm through his and led him out, ignoring the curious looks they were attracting.

"It's a nice day, let's sit outside." Angel said as they claimed their coffees and exited the steamy coffee shop.

The rain had finally eased a few days earlier and the sky was bright and clear. It was still chilly though. They set themselves up on a wall down the block, opposite a small grassy area.

"Did you miss me?" She eyed the black marks under his eyes and the stubble darkening his chin. "Or were you too busy?"

"How was your trip?" Goren asked as he sipped his coffee. "Successful?"

She poked her tongue out at him as she stirred her hot chocolate. She'd pulled her legs up under her, sitting cross-legged on the wall and he could feel her knee pressing against his thigh.

"Beautiful." She countered, digging a donut out of the paper bag. "Prague in winter is an experience." She licked the sugar from her fingers. "What're you working on?"

Goren reached into his pocket and tugged a photocopy of the note out. He handed it to her. She wiped her fingers on her jeans and took it from him.

"Whoa." She exclaimed when she saw the tiny writing. "Someone has diarrhoea of the pen."

"Can you read it?" Goren asked, watching a lock of her hair slip from behind her ear and over her cheek.

"I can get the gist of it." Her forehead was wrinkled as she concentrated. "There's something off though. See the characters here? They're supposed to be Ukrainian, but whoever wrote it, it's not their first language. When you learn a second language, you carry over traits from your first language. You can't help it. It's the way your brain's trained." She explained, tucking the hair back impatiently. "You speak French?" She grinned when he shrugged.

"A little." He admitted.

"Well when you write in French, you write differently to someone who speaks French naturally. The same way a French person writes English the way they learnt to write French." She cocked her head and looked at him. "Following me?"

He nodded but his face was expressionless, he was clearly deep in thought. She couldn't tell if she was making sense or not.

"So the author of this." Goren tapped the page. "What's their first language?"

"Well I'm not an expert, being fluent doesn't make me that good." She chewed on her lip as she pondered, staring at the page. "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say whoever wrote this is Russian. They've got a basic grasp of Ukrainian, they could probably pass themselves off with someone who doesn't know how to spot the difference."

She leant towards him and pointed out a few phrases, some grammar and a couple of inflections. Goren could smell her hair and her perfume, her face was inches from his. She could sense the moment he became aware of her proximity.

"Couldn't your tech guys look at this? I'm not sure how smart you have to be to work for the NYPD nowadays, but surely they can recognise a few languages."

Goren smiled and tucked the page back into his long coat.

"You're an outside eye, I wanted your opinion. What about this?" Goren showed her a magnified image of the locket they'd been puzzling over. "It's a falcon."

Angel stared at the picture for a long time.

"Well it's not a family crest." She finally said, handing him back the picture.

She did something on her phone and then handed it to him. She'd pulled up an image of a blue and yellow coat of arms.

"That's the coat of arms of Ukraine." She told him, quite pleased to be able to tell him something he didn't seem to know. "No one actually knows what it's supposed to be, but the general assumption is that it's a falcon." She took the phone back. "You'd have to be someone extremely important to have a falcon as part of your crest and anyone that important you'd be able to find in about five seconds."

She finished off her hot chocolate and heaved the empty cup into a bin a few feet away.

"You found the locket on a girl right, young? Late teens?" She smiled grimly when he nodded. "Well the only other thing I can think of is Finist."

Goren peered at her.

"That's a Russian fairy tale right?"

She nodded and snaked the last donut out of the bag.

"There's a prince who's a bird and a lonely pretty girl. It's a long romantic story. If you like that kind of thing." She sighed and stretched out her legs. "It's romantic. Something a little girl's mother probably told her over and over again."

Goren got to his feet. He had a strange look on his face as he put the picture back in his pocket. She got up too, startled at the sudden brightness on his face.

"I have to do something."

He was about to stride away in his excitement, he paused and turned back. She didn't look offended, in fact she was smiling. She reached up and brushed sugar from his collar.

"Well? Go catch the bad guys." She teased, pushing his shoulder.

She straightened his tie, then leaned up on her toes.

"You're very sexy when you're like this." Her eyes were level with his, their lips inches apart. "I'll have to see you at work more often." Her eyes drifted to his lips. "How do you feel about public displays of affection, Detective?"

He pulled her closer as she kissed him, tucking her slender body against him. When they pulled away she was smiling.

"Why, Detective, is that your badge or are you pleased to see me?"

She kissed him again without waiting for a reply.

"You're an enigma, Detective." She sighed when he let her go, remembering he was supposed to be looking for a killer. "Much too attractive for your own good. When you catch your guy, call me."

* * *

><p>"How long has he been in there?"<p>

Eames shrugged and gulped some stale coffee. Her watch said ten after nine which meant they'd been interrogating their killer for nearly six hours. Being dumb he'd waived his rights to counsel. They were finally onto something. Eames eyed the woman sitting on a table, peering through the glass and apparently listening closely to the interrogation.

"Hi, I'm Alex." Eames offered her hand.

"Angelica." She shook it with a smile.

She was very pretty. Her dark red hair was pulled back with a comb above each ear, expensive glasses made her green eyes seem bigger and brighter and dark lipstick emphasised the plump lower lip.

"Lawyer?" Alex guessed as she took in the elegantly tailored amber jacket and skirt.

"Interpreter." Angelica countered, re-shuffling the files in her arms and gesturing at their Russian murderer.

It was way past ten when he finally gave it up and Eames and Goren were squint-eyed with exhaustion when they emerged. Goren stared inquisitively at Angel as Eames nodded politely on their way out. Too tired to hit the paperwork, Eames left almost immediately. The place was deserted when Angel opened the door besides the Interrogation Room. She beckoned him over.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her curiously. "How did you get in?"

Angel closed the door behind him.

"I just put this sexy suit on and walked in with an entitled air. Nobody questioned me. For a police station this place has lousy security."

She unbuttoned her fitted jacket.

"What are you doing here?" He repeated, eyeing the silky mostly lace camisole she had exposed.

"I had to see you in action." She murmured, sliding her little hands inside his suit jacket and caressing his abdomen and chest. "Seeing you working people, getting into their heads, manipulating them." She gave an exaggerated shudder. "It's so hot."

She was in heels again, the perfect height to kiss him. He wondered briefly if she was just a badge bunny but after she'd loosened his tie and unbuttoned her jacket, she didn't make any further advances.

"You're leaving again." He said.

She nodded with a little smile, seemingly amused that he was starting to get her.

"First thing in the morning."

He stared at her in silence. She was leaning back against the rickety old table, the suit clinging to her slender hips.

"You show up, we do this." Goren gestured between them. "You disappear, for days at a time. Almost three weeks last time."

She didn't reply, wondering where he was going with this.

"I'm taking you to dinner." She blinked and he was quite pleased to see that he'd finally surprised her. "No games." He folded his arms as if he was putting a barrier between them and leaned over her. "No verbal cat and mouse. Just dinner. Just you. No masking."

She stared at him, his nose inches from hers, his eyes dark and intent boring straight through her.

"I don't mask. Not here." She finally said. "I'm all me." She pushed off from the table but he didn't move back, there were barely inches between her chest and his folded arms. "If I was acting, Detective, you'd never know what hit you."

He laughed. She buttoned up her jacket again.

"Alright, Robert. Let's go to dinner."


	4. Crash and Burn

**A/N:** don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'Crash and Burn' by Lifehouse

**Smoke and Mirrors**

**Chapter Four**

All these lies are catching up to me  
>I just can't put it down and go to sleep<br>And I close my eyes and all that I can see  
>Is someone who I'm never gonna be<br>Could you remind me to forget?  
>The things I did the things I said<br>I hope that you can bring me back  
>I gotta make it right<br>If I fall and crash and burn  
>At least I know you're by my side<br>As I crawl past lessons learned  
>They remind me I'll survive<br>Silence just keeps screaming back at me  
>The ones I love I lost in memories<br>I wish that I could take back what was done  
>You can only change the person you've become<br>I've been broken I've been low  
>I've been hurt but I'll move on<br>I have to try and find a way  
>To leave it all behind<br>If I fall and crash and burn  
>At least I know you're by my side<br>As I crawl past lessons learned  
>They remind me I'll survive<br>I've been hurt and I've been scarred  
>At least I know that I'm alive<br>And if I fall and crash and burn  
>At least we both know that I tried<br>All of the things that I tried say  
>All of the words just got in the way<br>I'm waiting here, I need your help  
>Leave me down here all by my self<br>Could you remind me to forget?  
>The things I did the things I said<br>I hope that you can bring me back  
>I gotta make it right<br>If I fall and crash and burn  
>At least I know you're by my side<br>As I crawl past lessons learned  
>They remind me I'll survive<br>I've been hurt and I've been scarred  
>At least I know that I'm alive<br>And if I fall and crash and burn  
>At least we both know that I tried<p>

The waiter had placed their orders on the fancy olive green mats and Angel was already chewing a melt in the mouth chunk of ravioli when she realised he was grinning that smug grin again. She swallowed self-consciously.

"What?"

He shook his head and cut into his steak. She glared at him until he nodded.

"Why didn't you order the pizza?" He asked her. "You spent more time looking at the pizza section of the menu than anything else. But you didn't order it."

She poked her fork into her ravioli. It was delicious.

"Why don't you tell me." She finally said, spearing another piece of pasta.

"You didn't want to get sauce on your suit." He said, glancing at the sparse white sauce her pasta was cooked in.

"You mean I didn't want to get sauce on my clothes in front of you." She corrected with a grin of her own.

He gulped some of his beer down.

"Judging by the foot on my thigh, it's a fair assumption."

He hunched over a little when the waiter returned to check on them, screening Angel's slender foot against his leg.

"I'm a direct person." She said shamelessly, peering at him through her lashes and not removing her foot.

"Of all the adjectives that come to mind, 'direct' isn't one of them." Goren commented as he speared a baby new potato dripping in herbs and butter.

"Have I ever been unclear about my intentions towards you?"

He cocked his head in that cute way she was starting to find irritatingly adorable.

"What are your intentions?" He smiled, flashing pearly whites. "Just for clarity."

"Thoroughly dishonourable." She purred wickedly, inching her foot just a little further up over his knee.

He wondered if she was uncomfortable in that position, his legs weren't exactly short. She didn't seem to be, she must be flexible. He felt his cheeks heat up at the thought and he took another slug of his beer.

"So, Robert. What are _your_ intentions towards _me_?" She countered pointedly, nibbling some asparagus in a thoroughly disconcerting manner.

Goren was floored, not something he was used to. He'd been so preoccupied with what she was doing, it had never occurred to him to probe his own motives.

"What do you think I want?" He stalled.

"What I want from you right now, is hardly appropriate for discussion at the dinner table." She said pointedly. "I told you, Robert, watching you work people is very seductive. You working me is no different."

She put her knife and fork together and sat back in her chair, retrieving her foot from his lap.

"You said no mind games, Detective." She folded her arms and stared at him across the table. "I like you. I find you interesting. Is it so hard to believe that?" She cocked an eyebrow. "You're smart, attractive, sometimes you dress well, nice hair, charming." She leaned over the table and cupped her chin in her hand. "Am I missing anything?"

He was flustered again, chuckling and unable to talk through his grin. She sighed and looked down at her half eaten dinner.

"Look, I was under the impression there was something there. If I was wrong and I make no impression on you whatsoever, then so be it."

"I think it would be impossible for you not to make an impression." Goren said quietly.

The waiter whisked away their plates.

"Dessert?" He asked in one of those knowing sing-song voices that made you want to strangle him. They looked at each other in silence. "I'll give you a moment to decide." He smirked.

"Not going to treat a lady to something sweet?" Angel asked with a smirk of her own, her laced fingers supporting her chin.

"Do you want dessert?" Goren asked.

"No." She replied immediately.

Goren signalled for the cheque.

It was chilly when they got outside, Angel hadn't brought a coat.

"While we're being direct, it's too cold to stand here all night. Here's your choice, Robert."

He cocked his head to the side again. He loved the effect the cold weather had on her, she was the only woman he'd ever met whose flushed cheeks and fiery colouring suited her.

"An ultimatum?" He asked. "Just for clarity."

She shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh. After a moment she pouted her lips and folded her arms across her chest.

"What? Sleep with me or I'll dump you?" She shoved his shoulder. "You're stupider than I thought. I keep telling you how I feel, but you haven't given me an inkling. I'm flying blind here, not something I'm used to." She grumbled. "I guess I am giving you an ultimatum. Do you want me at all?"

He reached out and touched her elbow. His hand was warm against the cold. He applied just enough pressure, a brief squeeze, and she moved towards him. He didn't actually give her an answer but he put everything into his kiss, electrifying her until she could barely stand.

"Oh. OK." She said shakily when they had to come up for air. "Not a straight answer but it'll do, I guess." She said once she'd rallied a little.

* * *

><p>"Is there a reason for this?" Eames asked curiously as they waited for the elevator to descend to the ground floor.<p>

"For what?" Goren switched his files from one hand to another.

"The mysterious phone calls, the schoolboy grin you keep getting when you're deep in thought." Eames was only half teasing; usually she could never tell if Goren had a girlfriend, he never gave anything away. "Like right now! What is that look?"

Before Goren could reply the doors opened and they filed out of the elevator and went their separate ways. Eames gave him a look that told him their discussion wasn't over as she waved goodbye. When he checked his phone he had a voicemail from Angel. She sounded very drunk. There was a lot of laughter in the background.

When he reached the hotel she'd called him from, he hovered on the edge of the ballroom and watched her for a moment. He had the feeling this was one of her many business events and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to observe her with her colleagues. She was dancing with an attractive young black man. They were both laughing and tripping over their feet. As he watched a pretty older woman approached them and handed the young man a champagne glass. From the way the two of them deferred to her, Goren guessed she was their superior. She had thick black hair wound up at the back of her head and intelligent dark eyes that took in everything even as she talked to her companions.

Sensing his scrutiny she glanced up and gave him the once over. She said something to the two of them and they turned. Angel smiled when she saw him. She excused herself from her friends and crossed the room towards him. He'd seen her all dressed up as someone else before but never like this. Her dress was silver but it shone like diamonds, all different colours in the light. Her hair was softly curled and flowed down her bare back, held from her face on one side with a jewelled clip. She had delicate silver drops in her ears that sparkled as she moved.

"What are you doing here?" She frowned in confusion when she reached him.

Her eyes were bright as jewels from the alcohol and her cheeks were pink.

"You called me." He reminded her, catching her elbow when she miss-stepped on the polished floor.

She fell against him as she wobbled. Her body was burning hot from the dancing, slender and inviting against his side. Her scented hair tumbled against him, curled and silken and glittering with diamond pins.

"You said you'd had too much." He told her as he helped her down the front steps, hoping some cold air would sober her a little.

"I did not." She said indignantly. "I said I'd had enough."

"More than enough by all accounts."

She stuck her tongue out at him. He decided to let her walk it off, her apartment was only a few blocks away and the cold air might clear her head a bit.

"This a business party?"

Even drunk she knew he was fishing and she gave him a wry look.

"Oh yeah, great fun." She rolled her eyes, almost tripping over her long dress. "I'm a liaison." She curled the title off her tongue. "I liaise." She pulled her face.

He helped her jump a puddle, she was surprisingly agile in the nine inch heels that brought her up to his considerable height.

"That how you went to Oxford for your degree? Cambridge after that?" Goren wheedled, revealing that he'd done a little digging.

"Nope. Daddy took care of that. Well," She snorted. "Daddy's guilt did anyway."

She disappeared from his side and for a moment he thought she'd fallen over, then he realised she'd crossed the street and clambered into the front yard of a big house that was up for sale. She was sitting on the swing attached to a huge gnarled tree when he got there.

"I had a brother, you know." She said conversationally.

She'd kicked off her heels and was swinging like an expert, her long legs kicking out and sending her silver dress trailing out beneath her.

"Eleven years between us." She swung even higher, her hair bannering out in time with her skirt. "His car went into the lake when he was nineteen. A deer stepped into the road. Know what you're supposed to do when that happens?"

She'd climbed onto her feet while the swing was in motion, using her arms as well as her legs to swing faster.

"Speed up." Goren supplied.

"Speed up." She repeated breathlessly. "Not my brother. He loved animals, wanted to be a marine biologist. He swerved."

Goren was silent as she slid back down on the swing, letting it slow down on its own. Her face was blank but her dress and her pearly skin shone in the moonlight.

"When I wanted to go to college, I picked England and daddy was more than happy to ship me off there. It was as far away as he could get me without my mom flipping her lid." She used her toes to keep the swing swaying backwards and forwards gently.

"Why would he want that?" Goren asked, looking down at her head drooping like a broken flower. "Why would he feel guilty? It wasn't his fault your brother died."

"Because deep down he knows he'd give anything for it to have been me in that car, instead of Ritchie." She finally came to a stop. "He hates himself for that."

She seemed to have sobered up completely, looking young and vulnerable in her distress. She shivered and he took her hand to help her climb down from the swing.

"We should get out of here before someone calls the police." She said brusquely, her vulnerability carefully tucked away again. "Where're my shoes?"

Goren held them up so she could see them. She'd discarded them on the lawn on her way to the swing.

"Oh good. Those babies cost me nearly $600."

She grabbed onto his arm to steady herself as she slipped her feet back into the heels.

"You paid $600 for a pair of shoes?"

She glared at him as they headed back out onto the street.

"Yes. They were on sale."

He was still looking at her with an incredulous look on his face.

"Did you see them? You think any man can say no to anything I ask when I'm wearing these?"

He wisely chose not to reply.

When they reached her building Goren walked her right to the elevator that would take her to her penthouse. She'd been subdued for the rest of their walk back. She seemed to have shocked herself, revealing such private details to him.

"Don't you want to come up?" She asked when he showed no sign of following her into the elevator.

He put a hand out to stop the doors from closing. He leaned so close towards her he could smell her hair.

"Ask me again when you're sober."

She wrapped her cold hand around the back of his neck. She was strong but she wouldn't have had enough strength to keep him there if he wanted to leave. She stared straight at him, eye to eye.

"I'm sober enough to know what I want." She told him seriously. "Don't worry I won't regret it in the morning."

There was a brief glimmer of the humour he was used to at the back of her eye.

"I'm too old for you." He said doubtfully.

She reached up and ran her hand through his greying hair, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. She pressed butterfly kisses along his jaw.

"I don't care." She whispered impatiently. "Stop thinking so much. Listen to your other organs."

He laughed and couldn't resist laying a hand on her bare back, stroking her spine under her long hair.

"I meant this, gutter-mind." She snorted, pressing her palm against his heart.

He was still resistant but it was difficult to think straight when he was this close to her. The heat of her body made the scent of her perfume and body-lotion almost intoxicating.

"I'm trying to seduce you, Detective." She said into his ear. "It's much more fun if you're involved."

He chuckled and gave in, pressing his lips into the curve of her neck where it touched her shoulder.

"Hey. Are you getting on or not? My girlfriend's waiting."

A flustered looking man in his pyjama bottoms and an inside-out sweater was glowering at them impatiently. A box of condoms was clenched in his hand. He'd clearly been sent to the pharmacy down the block by his girlfriend. Angel got the giggles and had to bite on her finger to keep silent, hiding behind Goren's broad shoulder as the guy shambled into the elevator after him.

* * *

><p>Alarm bells were going off. Angel groaned and rolled over. It was much too bright. It eventually occurred to her that all the racket was her phone ringing. She had a heavy old-fashioned rotary phone in her bedroom, it made a piercing noise at six in the morning and, unlike modern phones, it just kept on ringing until they hung up. She staggered out of bed, tripping over her discarded shoes and catching the arch of her foot on the sharp stiletto.<p>

"Son of a bitch." She cursed, hopping across the room to the little glass table by the window. "What?" She snapped into the heavy receiver, leaning against the windowsill.

"That's real nice, first thing in the morning. You think I wanted to be up this early? I've had nothing but abuse from everybody else so don't you start. Ungrateful people, you know how long it's taken me to get in contact with everyone. None of you answer your phones-"

"Shut up, Chase. What do you want?" She interrupted the flow, cradling the receiver under her chin and cupping her foot with her hands.

She'd scratched it on the heel, she'd even drawn blood. Great.

"We've got a job. Melissa wants you in the office for briefing."

Angel hung up. Goren was still asleep, his tall frame sprawled across her huge bed. Her sheets were wrapped around his waist. He looked very peaceful while he was asleep. She hobbled back over and slid beneath the sheets.

"I can't believe you slept through that." She muttered, burrowing her cheek into her soft pillows.

"I was fine until you tripped over your own feet." He grinned into the pillow.

"I tripped over my shoes!" She retorted indignantly. "Which, if I recall, you dropped in the middle of my floor when you were manhandling me last night."

He was smirking again, his eyes still shut and his face half-buried in the pillow. His eyelashes were long and inky black against his cheeks, his chin was already dark with stubble. She snuggled a bit closer to him.

"You running out on me?" He finally opened his eyes.

"Work." She sighed, tracing the perimeter of his hand on the sheets between them.

He turned it over and she ran her fingertip along the lines on his palm. She touched his jaw, enjoying the scratch of the stubble.

"You just can't keep your hands off me." He commented in his usual observant manner.

"Can't help it." She giggled, leaning up on one elbow. "I like your features." She leant down and kissed his jaw, then his nose and his cheekbones. "And I like your hair." She brushed his hair back from his forehead.

She rested one elbow on either side of him. He stroked her mussed up hair with one hand, the other touching her neck lightly.

"You promised me a demonstration." He pointed out. "I heard you bragging but I've yet to see some proof."

She punched his bare shoulder and climbed out of the big bed with a sigh.

"I said I take pole dancing classes. I never said I was a stripper."

He rolled over and tucked one arm behind his head so he could see her as she gathered their discarded clothes.

"Why take the class then?"

She gave him a look over her shoulder as she hung her dress up to loosen the wrinkles from being dumped on the floor all night.

"Besides how flexible I am now?" He grinned and she tossed a discarded pillow at him. "You see these thighs, the stomach? They don't come that way naturally."

As she moved around the bed looking for her jewelled clip, he reached out and took her wrist.

"You want me to show you my moves, Detective?" She taunted with an exaggerated pout.

She swung out her hip so the t-shirt she'd tugged on during the night was pulled taut against her.

"I thought you had to go to work."

She shrugged and dropped the clothes in a pile on her bare feet.

"I think I've got time to fit you in."

"Working on any murders?" She asked as she emerged from her wardrobe in skinny jeans and a white off-the-shoulder sweater.

He shook his head. They'd just wrapped up a complicated double homicide and he'd barely slept last night. He was working up the energy to get up and shower.

"I've got a briefing on the new job. I'll probably have to spend the day with my team doing research. Dinner?" She asked as she slipped on her jacket.

"Dinner?" He repeated sceptically, well aware that their schedules were impossible.

"Pizza. Beer. A movie." She offered, punctuating each word with a kiss.

He grinned, watching as she pulled a hat on over her newly washed glossy hair.

"Chinese." He countered, running one hand up the back of her thigh.

"Deal." She paused halfway through pulling on her gloves, cocking her head to one side. "You're sexy first thing in the morning. You can stay here." She told him as he got up from the bed.

"I have to go home and change."

"Your partner as observant as you?" She mocked. "Make yourself at home."

* * *

><p>"OK what is going on?" Eames demanded as she cornered Goren in the elevator again. "Look at you, you're practically giddy." She accused.<p>

Goren chuckled and gave her a half-grin, unusually short on words.

"You're so smitten." Eames taunted gleefully as they left the elevator and crossed the office towards their desks.

"I've got something to wipe the smile off your face." The Captain told them as he emerged from his office with a grim look. "They just found Chloe Parkinson's body."

They both paused and exchanged a look.

"Isn't that the Senator's daughter?" Eames turned towards the big board on one of the walls where half a dozen photographs were pinned up.

"Sixteen. She went missing on the way home from swim practice three months ago." Goren supplied as Eames returned from the board with the missing person flyer of a pretty girl with a head of blonde curls.

"She vanished into thin air. No one saw her after she left the school grounds. No leads. Nothing." The Captain continued.

"Well we've got something now." Eames sighed.

She'd been found in the middle of the foyer of a huge building. Her pretty hair was matted with dried blood and her blue eyes were open and staring at the ceiling.

"She wasn't killed here." Goren announced, tipping her head forward to expose a nasty wound at the base of her skull. "This wound would have bled a lot. There's no blood here."

He gently lowered her head again and continued his examination.

"These aren't the clothes she went missing in." Eames observed, eyeing the missing person's report. "It says here she left the school in running shorts and her swim team sweater."

They both looked at the body. She was wearing a white dress and heels. Pearls were in her ears.

"They redressed her." Eames suggested, watching Goren pulling off one of the white silk gloves she was wearing.

"No." Goren shook her head. "He made her change. See the ribbon?" He rolled her over to expose the back of the dress. "The way the bow faces down? That happens when you tie it yourself. If he'd tied it, the bow would face up. She tied it behind her back."

"So he makes her change, put on earrings, a pearl necklace, the shoes. Why?"

Goren called out to the Medical Examiner who was scribbling on a clipboard and discussing something avidly with his assistant.

"Any signs of sexual assault?"

He shook his head, gave his assistant the clipboard and returned to the body.

"Nothing obvious. We'll know more once we've got her on the table."

Goren examined her hands.

"No marks, no scratches. No defence wounds." He mused, turning her hand over in his. "She didn't fight."

"Look at those nails." Eames said, pointing at the flawless scarlet nail polish. "She was missing for weeks, no way a manicure lasts that long."

"He painted her nails." Goren agreed. "She was a swimmer. Spent hours at a time in the pool. She wouldn't have painted her nails, they'd chip."

"So she's been his hostage for weeks but there's no abuse, no torture, no visible signs of violence. What's the point?"

Goren shook his head thoughtfully, watching them covering her up.

* * *

><p>Goren was deep in thought, poring over pictures and files while the gears turned in his head. He didn't even hear the door opening until Angel wandered in.<p>

"Not very aware of your surroundings, Detective. Isn't that dangerous for a cop?"

He stared at her in amazement.

"How did you get in?"

She laughed and deposited the big bag of Chinese on his coffee table.

"I learnt how to pick a lock by the time I was fourteen." She laughed, tugging off her coat and hat. "My rebellious phase."

She disappeared into the kitchen and he could hear her rummaging around. He'd completely forgotten their plans in the rush of the new case. She re-emerged with a few side plates and some napkins.

"What?" She asked when he was still staring at her from the couch. "I can leave if you like."

He shook his head and took the beer she was offering him. He was still in his shirt-sleeves.

"I didn't know what you wanted so I got a bit of everything." Angel grinned as she unpacked all the little boxes and paper bags of food. "New case?"

He nodded and pushed the case files to one side. She was wearing the same clothes she'd left in earlier, but he was heartened to see she'd brushed her hair and applied fresh makeup before getting here.

"You watch me a lot." She said without looking at him, working her chopsticks on a piece of chicken. "You watch everyone that much?"

He smiled and rifled through a box with his own chopsticks.

"Only fascinating people."

She did look up then.

"You mean mysterious people. People with secrets." She grinned slyly. "I'm already figuring you out."

He cocked his head to one side and looked at her steadily, a knowing smile curling his lips.

"You like figuring out how people work. They're like little puzzles for you to solve." She moved onto the couch next to him, touching her lips to his jawline. "Don't worry, I'm sure you're much more complicated than that." She reassured him, giving him such a serious look that he couldn't help laughing. "Are you going to eat that?" She demanded suddenly, eyeing the last spring roll covetously.

He put down the box of noodles in his hand and grabbed the spring roll.

"I was thinking about it." He taunted, examining the roll closely.

"Because I want it?" She accused, putting her own box on the table and snatching for the roll. "I'll fight you for it." She threatened.

Goren bit the end of the spring roll.

"It's good."

He waved the remaining bite under her nose. Quick as lightening she darted forwards and pinned him down. She wrestled the spring roll from his hand. It got a little smushed in the process but she waved it triumphantly over his head anyway.

"Are you going to break the case tonight?" She asked suddenly, dropping the ruined spring roll onto a plate on the table.

He stared up at her, guilt in his eyes. He should be working on finding Chloe's killer, not having a wrestling match. She sat back on her haunches and watched his mind turning.

"We're stuck until we know how she died."

Angel glanced at the photos spread out on the table. She was pretty and smiling. Just a girl. Angel released her grip on Goren and climbed off his lap.

"I figured you might be in a thoughtful mood." She said, going over to the paper bag she'd brought the food in. "So I brought these."

She pulled out a pile of DVDs and handed them to him. He rifled through them. Not a romcom in sight. Two murder mysteries, a sci-fi cheese-fest and an action movie with lots of explosions and car chases. He sat up and gave her back the DVDs.

"I doubt I'd have your full attention for what I had in mind for tonight." She lifted an eyebrow pointedly. "So I brought us a little mindless entertainment."

He grinned and nodded, then he gestured at the TV.

"I don't have a DVD player."

She held up one hand and turned back to the bag. She pulled out a compact DVD player and waved it at him.

"As I suspected. That's why I picked this up. Don't worry, you can keep it." She told him as she plugged the DVD player in.

She put one of the mystery DVDs in and returned to the couch, pulling off her boots and settling in next to him. She pulled a note out of her pocket and slapped it onto the table.

"I pick a killer, you pick a killer and we see who wins." She explained when he looked at the money questioningly.

"If I'm going to bet I want higher stakes." He said. "If I'm going to pick up some easy money it might as well be some real money."

She elbowed him indignantly.

"Don't be so full of yourself, Detective." The wicked look was in her eye again and Goren felt his heart-rate jump. "Alright, Robert. I'll raise the stakes, if you think you can match it. But I want something far more interesting than money."

She was practically nibbling his ear, her hand disappearing between the buttons of his shirt and caressing his chest. They stared at each other in silence, both looking for a subtle nuance that would give them the edge over the other. Goren eventually broke into a satisfied smile.

"We should play poker."

She shook her head and selected "play" on the DVD, leaning back against his arm.

"Nah, I hate card games." She snuggled under his arm when he draped it along the back of the couch. "So easy to win. So boring. Sitting there trying to catch each other in a lie." She shot him a glance. "I bet you love them."

He didn't reply but she could see the grin in his profile.

* * *

><p><strong>Guest<strong> - I don't know what to tell you, it's working for everybody else :( 

**insubordinationfreak** - that would be telling now wouldn't it

**luvztorite** - thanks here's your update


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